


Tea and the Art of Diplomacy

by Prinzenhasserin



Category: Imperial Radch Series - Ann Leckie, Machineries of Empire Series - Yoon Ha Lee
Genre: Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinzenhasserin/pseuds/Prinzenhasserin
Summary: Due to an accident with the ghost portal, Breq meets another fleet captain with an artificially expanded mind and a penchant for drinking tea. It's an experience.





	Tea and the Art of Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



> This is set after the end of Ancillary Sword, and after the end of Revenant Gun and therefore contains some spoilers. I did keep Ajewen Cheris' name she is known throughout the Machineries of Empire series, in case there was confusion about the name--but I hope my in-universe explanation of that makes as much sense as the out-of-universe explanation.  
> I hope you enjoy!

"That’s the entire agenda for today," Seivarden said. She was acting for Ship, as usual, the only intimacy Breq was likely to permit her. Mercy of Kalr was very appreciative of that small concession to her foibles.

Breq waved the both of them off—a light day of duty like this one didn’t need the briefing between captain and her first officers, but the routine was familiar and comforting. Tievarden was down at the Station, and the Mercy of Kalr was patrolling around the Ghost portal. There had been some signs of activity in the energy readings of yet unexplained origin. Sphene didn’t have an explanation either, though the likelihood of their worries turning out to be nothing was likely. Similar signs in the past weeks had turned out to be nothing.

The Republic— Provisional Republic, she heard the voice of Sphene in her head correcting her—of Two Systems was ill-prepared for a military engagement, even though the Gem of Sphene, the Sword of Justice and the Mercy of Kalr was a bigger fleet most other systems of that size could uphold. Breq didn’t want a military engagement. She would like some peace for once in her life, and if she was already reaching for the stars, a different tea aside from the Daughter of Fishes would be nice. It was great tea. Seivarden and the rest of the crew enjoyed it very much. Breq would have liked something a bit more robust and dark.

Seivarden had crossed all the way across the room already, and was certainly not playing around with the helm, when a disconcerting jolt went through the ship. The Mercy of Kalr was already reacting to the perceived threat. Breq could feel Ship at the edge of her consciousness. It wasn’t as fast as it had been when she was the ancillary for her own ship—but she could read the sensors better than Seivarden who was breathing awfully fast.

"Seivarden," Breq said. "If you don’t feel up to combat situations, you should check yourself into the infirmary."

"Yes, captain," Seivarden said, and didn’t move. She was breathing calmer now, ready for combat.

Breq focused on what Ship was letting her see. The lack of data from the sensors was blindingly obvious. It wasn't just a small blip of obscured space radiation anymore-- this was very clearly depicting a breach in the ghost portal. Unsubstantiated movement across large amounts of space could only mean one thing: a space ship was pushing through the portal. There was a long, tense pause as the ship emerged out of the hole in space. It didn’t look like the standard emergence sequence for Radch ships, and the Presger came in small shuttlecrafts that jolted out of the portals like air out of a small tube. It looked like a long drawn out procedure—like the ship didn’t know how portals worked or like the ship had trouble steering in the space-in-between. Sphene had stayed for thousands of years behind the portal, and was still more elegant in manoeuvring them, so either this one was much older than Sphene--and by Toren, that would be an interesting encounter!-- or this was an alien ship, not familiar with the way Radch space was traversed. The Mercy of Kalr sounded the alarms. Through the connection with ship, Breq could feel her crew assembling.

The dark shadow, from its size larger than the Mercies not quite as large as the Swords, convalesced into something more substantial, transferring into this plane of existence. Behind Breq the commando trope was waiting for deployment. Neither Breq nor the Mercy of Kalr wanted an aggressive encounter, but they needed to be prepared for every eventuality.

Finally, the ship materialised in proper space, emerging out of the portal like a . Contrary to the first impression, the hull was gigantic, easily the size of the Gem of Sphene, and entirely different from the elegant lines of her streamlined design. This one had wings, folded behind its back like a giant space moth. Breq, who had a considerable life experience, had never seen anything like it. It was utterly alien in appearance. There was no sign their communication channels would be compatible.

The moth ship lurched out of the immediate area of the gate, floundering its way through the space. The Mercy of Kalr had the action report open, scrolled through possible scenarios as fast as Breq could keep up.

"Hold," Breq decided. Send out a communication, perhaps they have someone skilled at cryptography on board, she told the Mercy of Kalr.

The Mercy of Kalr held her position, and opened a communication channel to the alien ship, and then contacted Sphene.

Breq grimaced. "Not Sphene," she said. Sphene was an old warship, and it’d seen a lot of war and strive. Breq was sure she knew what Sphene would advice, and she didn’t want to be party to it. "Get Station, this is going to be a diplomatic mission. Ask for people with interplanetary diplomacy experience. There must be a few beside me and Seivarden."

Ship didn’t say that it thought Breq and Seivarden could do a better job than the people down on Station but the sentiment came across quite well. "We haven't been the most diplomatic capable people," Breq defended herself. She didn't think it was morally defendable to great an alien species like she was the same as every citizen, even though she was working for exactly that. It felt too much like making false claims. Aliens didn't really get the differences between the experiences of an ancillary. "We started a revolution."

The Mercy of Kalr was of a different opinion, and expressed that very clearly, but she opened a channel to Station with the request for immediate diplomatic support. "Thank you," Breq said.

Station sent a report of their panicked diplomats, and Breq sighed. Mercy of Kalr was exuding faint smugness in the back of her mind. "How did they receive your message beam?" 

The algorithms for the communication channel flashed across the commando port. Breq could only catch half of it, but one of Lieutenant Seivarden's stepped forward for a closer look. It was possible that their receivers could identify the communication beam—modified light was the easiest way to cut across ship distances, and even if they had other ways of achieving the same results from different technologies.

"They have received the message," Seivarden confirmed. "If they have a decryption expert on board they might understand it even." It was a slim chance, Breq knew. They needed an entire team of translators workingfor years to understand the messages the Rrrrr were sending. If this was an offshot of one of the Radch languages, however, or even the same root language as the communique the Mercy of Kalr had sent.

Or perhaps, the alien ship would flee since the aliens were in a space unfamiliar to them. In the event of an attack, the Mercy of Kalr was prepared. Not for a powerful species such as the Presger, but even those had sometimes let people alive—and now they recognised their Significance.

The alien ship sent out a gravity wave. The Mercy of Kalr maneuvred to its side, so that the wave would be caught by the gravity dampeners. "That’s a message," Seivarden said out loud, and the Mercy of Kalr who had caught that just seconds earlier, went to decrypt the waves. Someone in the alien ship was fluent in Machine Universal, and Breq hoped that this nation hadn’t misused their AIs like the Radch had.

"Excellent," Breq said, to the sighs of relief of many of the crew who had already dreamt about a fiery death in the cold dark vastness of space. At least it wouldn’t have been at Anaander Minaai’s hand, Breq thought quietly.

It took awhile to negotiate the details in Machine Universal, as none of the commanders on Station were all that fluent in it, and had to be patiently coached along by Sphene, but they came to a solution surprisingly fast. No one wanted the giant moth to hang in the sky for longer than entirely necessary, and Translator Zeiat had promised she would eat them if they turned out to be imposters. Breq longed to interrogate her, since Governor Giarod seemed to be too afraid to the job properly. If they were known to the Presger, and if the translator could disable them that fast, how did they keep the Presger from invading their home? Or did they simply deal with it the way the Radch had for over thousands of years?

In the back of her head, the governor decided that the easiest way would be to have the fleetescort the alien ship to port, where a more in-depth examination could take place more easily. Breq followed the orders, since that was what she and her Mercy had decided on hours earlier.

❊

The ship looked even more like a moth up close. The giant wings—and the beautiful markings on the hull that was reflected in the outer casing. It almost looked as if the moth had been harnessed, like a giant animal with a carriage attached. Breq wondered if their ships were sentient also, if they were artificial intelligence, like her, or if they had been born natural.

The unwieldy body of the ship set down inelegantly in the port made for different ships. Every movement of the moth looked torturously slow, as if the engine was malfunctioning.

Breq could feel Station enveloping them, checking over for obvious signs of tampering, then Station administration was pinging her. Station had the time to tell her that she’d been promoted to fleet captain again, before Administrator Celar arrived around the corner. She arrived at the docking station of the Mercy of Kalr quickly.

"Fleet Captain Breq," she said. It wasn’t quite the way she’d been addressed since the declaration of independence, but it was understandable to revert in times of stress to a more familiar title. "Would you be as kind as represent our station’s diplomatic corps in front of the aliens?"

"I’m not certain I would be the person with the best negotiation skills," Breq said. "Isn’t there a cadre of well educated diplomats on Athoek station?"

The station administrator grimaced. "Much of their first contact training involved contacting the Radch for further help," she admitted. "And none of them feel like they want to be the first person to declare their independency from the main Radch with its military might to an alien nation that might have an expansionist agenda."

"Like the Radch, you mean." Breq said.

The sour look on Celar’s face didn’t vanish. "Just so," she said.

"Well," Breq said, and hummed. "I should go see what needs to be doing, then."

Station let her see the docking of the ship—it didn’t have a conscious the same way the Radch ship had, but it felt comfortable, not with the mindset of an enemy. On a closer look, it did have gravity wells, similar to deep space exploration vessels of Radch-make. If they regularly used them to communicate across wide distances that explained why there were so many of them—but Breq speculated that they could also be used to power the ship itself, or possibly as weapons against other ships of the same make.

Then, the first of the aliens made their way onto the port. Station Administrator Celar stood at the ready, as did Governor Giarod. Breq didn’t make out Tisvarden, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t present. In fact, Breq suspected she was masterminding in one of the darker corners of the port. Translator Zeiat was thankfully absent.

The aliens who departed the ship looked human, even if they were much paler than the usual Radch—almost as pale as Breq herself. Most of them looked very similar to each other, with round faces and black hair which most of them had cut to their chins. There were a few initial communication difficulties, because the Captain of the alien ship didn’t seem to be speaking the Machine Universal that had initially allowed them to connect with the giant space moth. A much smaller person, Breq had difficulties of making out a gender or if that was relevant to this species, with the same ivory-pale skin and the black hair as the others, stepped forward to translate. She didn’t have a translation device, but spoke Machine Universal with the quiet confidence of someone who used it often.

Station was preparing a Machine Universal translator, and told her so. Station was also recording the translations and would analyse them until it was fluent in the language these people were speaking. Breq moved towards the docks, Seivarden at her side. She could see no ancillaries at first glance, which was a relief.

There was something of an overlapping sense of camaraderie in the group of people that separated them from each other. There was no sense in speculating where that came from—if it was an organically produced camaraderie like the difference between a Kalr and an Amat, or if it was pressed upon them like the ancillaries were.

The person translating wasn’t in the same kind of uniform, however, and looked otherwise to be slightly removed from the crew characteristics. She was fluent, almost as fluent as an ancillary would have been, but her vocabulary was — antiquated. Weird in the way machines spoke, yet she was clearly human in nature.

"This is Fleet Captain Breq Minaai, with her first lieutenant Seivarden Vendaai," Governor Giarod said. Her voice was clear when she translated the words, and Station was humming along at the back of Breq’s mind. Giarod’s introduction was new—she hadn’t been this nice since one of the Anaander Minaais had disrupted life on Athoek station.

Breq mimicked the bow with which she was greeted. She tried to keep her attention on the captain of the ship, who was introduced as "Moth Captain Kel Amarath", and not the translator who was just "Ajewen Cheris". It was a rather difficult venture, as the Moth Captain kept deferring to her in a way that was unusual to see for a translator.

"We’d like to invite you to a State banquet," the governor said with Station’s help. "On this Station, you will need a guide, of course, and Fleet Captain Breq will be happy to escort you. If you need further help getting yourself shipshape, we could be persuaded to help." The latter didn’t quite translate perfectly into Machine Universal in the polite diplomatic way the governor had intended—it sounded rather like an equivalency exchange with them as the beneficiary. Breq noted, too, that her promotion into her old rank came with some obligations—but she was happy to follow them. Other cultures had always interested her, and this translator was especially fascinating. She didn’t seem to fit the usual mould of her fellow crew.

The translator didn’t seem to take offence to the rather mercenary way of offering help. Breq had still not figured out how their language worked, though some phrases were becoming easier to understand. It would have helped if she had access to the Radch translating systems, but alas.

“During an accident—” she turned towards the governor and Breq again. There was a tiny pause, in which Breq pondered their intelligence that they had made this person lie, then she continued much more comfortable with herself, “—we fell out of calendric realignment and got lost in the—ghost portal, you called it earlier? We’re very thankful for your gracious welcome, and we hope to be able to leave as soon as our engineers have recalculate our thrust engines.”

She bowed. "Your offer of help is very much appreciated, but we have to decline at this moment. We would be happy to further the relations of our people."

Breq herself couldn’t have disarmed the governor more swiftly.

Seivarden nudged her. "Stop humming, you’re drawing attention," she said.

Breq didn’t, to see if she could draw the attention of someone in particular, but Seivarden must have overestimated her volume.

❊

Due to Governor Giarod making her responsible to follow the group that had decided to stay on Athoek Station, Breq didn’t see Ajewen Cheris until the state banquet the governor had announced. The guided tour the governor had deemed acceptable was much the same that had been shown to Breq when she first arrived—which was very amusing on its own.

Station had grown very annoyed at her after the first few pings of Breq asking for location updates from Cheris, and told her that Station wasn’t going to support stalking from the government.

Seivarden had refused to be a part of Breq’s "sudden crisis", as she had called it, from the beginning. It made her antsy, to not know where she could stumble upon her without warning. Breq wanted nothing more than to further her knowledge in the language they had speaking, of course.

During the banquet, later that day, Breq was seated at opposite ends from the translator Ajewen Cheris, next to the Captain of the Moth. Ostensibly, that was because Breq had learned everything she and Station could figure out about the language they called high language and Mwen-dal, which seemed to have two strains of separate grammar. Breq was sure it was only because Station was still annoyed at her.

 _"I can’t believe you’d scoop so low,"_ she complained to Station. _"You know how few people I find tolerable! And then you do this."_

Station communicated its disinterest. Then, it added, _"Governor Giarod did request your setting arrangements."_

Breq sighed, deeply, and looked over to the place where Ajewen Cheris had been sitting two seconds earlier. She was just getting up. Breq sighed again.

"Is there anything wrong?" the Captain Kel Amarath asked her—and Breq could understand an entire sentence for the first time. She was too distracted by Ajewen Cheris to properly register it as an achievement, and just said, "Bathroom."

On her way out, she was stopped by one of her Kalrs, who was acting as an ancillary for Ship. "Are you sure you want to explore this with an alien?" the Mercy of Kalr said.

Breq played obtuse. "Explore what," she said.

"Intimacy," Kalr Three repeated. "Sexual Relations. Love."

"I think you’re reaching," Breq told her. The Mercy of Kalr was sometimes driven to flights of fancy after all. Breq was just interested in a meeting of minds. The translator seemed intriguing. Station liked her, too, and nobody was accusing Station of... illicit thoughts.

"Your crew would be happy to fill that space for you!" Kalr Three said, and then blushed a deep red.

Breq stilled. "Kalr Three—" she said. "Don’t let Ship offer that for you."

"No, no," Kalr Three stuttered, then straightened herself. "It was an offer sincerely meant. Ship asked me beforehand."

"I’m very flattered—" Breq said, and felt supremely uncomfortable. "No. Thank you for the offer, but no."

Feeling entirely knocked of course, Breq left the banquet hall. She could not believe the sheer audacity the Mercy of Kalr had exhibited. Breq did not know why Ship was so worried—she was only going to talk to the intriguing translator.

Ajewen Cheris, when Breq finally found her, was deeply involved in a discussion with Station. Breq could tell her distraction from all the way across the room. She had a strange affinity with artificial intelligences. Even Breq who didn’t like intimate contact on principle except when she could not go on without it, felt drawn to her.

Breq cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she told her. “Will you be ready to rejoin the party?”

Her clear brown eyes settled themselves on her. Breq felt the thrumming of her heart in her ears. “There’s no need for a translator, now that the... Station? —has managed to translate the high language,” Ajewen Cheris said in Machine Universal, and Breq could finally focus on something beside the reaction of her body.

“There was something else you spoke though,” Breq said, stupidly, because she couldn’t think of anything better. Normally she would have just said nothing, but she really wanted for Cheris to keep talking.

“Mwen-dal isn’t really an established language anymore. Less than 7000 people speak it, and much of it is based on stories and metaphors nobody here would understand.” she said.

It seemed a sore point for her. Breq floundered with a reply. She wanted to tell her that Breq remembered languages that went under thousand years ago. She wanted to tell her about the songs sung in languages that were older than the Radch, older than the universe almost, and that 7000 people was plenty as far as a language was concerned. “If it suits you,” she said instead.

And then, Cheris smiled. It was a faint upturn of lips, a delicate crinkling of eyes. Breq went hot all over, and couldn’t help but return the smile, faint as it was.

Cheris turned her head and nodded backwards—it was a gesture that Breq had never seen before, and yet, somehow, it was familiar. Breq could understand she meant to point towards Station. "Are all of your AIs so… all-encompassing?" she asked.

It was an unexpected question. "How do you mean? Station is designed to run Athoek Station. It’s exactly as it needs to be."

Cheris shook her head. "No, that’s not— it does everything? It does not have smaller helpers?"

Breq flushed hot all over, and this time it wasn’t in delight. Ancillaries. She was talking about ancillaries.

"It’s just— we have smaller AIs, about the size of my fist," she continued. "And they can combine to much larger AIs when it’s needed. Station is, well, rather stationary, isn’t she? I found it very interesting."

"Station has its ways," Breq said and swallowed. Somehow, this conversation was terrifying.

"Like all living things have theirs" Cheris said, and smiled again. This time, it was even wider, a brighter smile. It definitely hurt this time.

 _"Breq helped me be free,"_ Station said. _"My ability to help my citizen is better now than it was."_

Breq, who had never been so acutely aware of her body, blushed again. _"You’ve already managed to resist on your own."_

"That’s very kind of you," Cheris said. "I haven’t met other nations who use mechanical intelligence like the Hexarchate —and we— do. I didn’t think they’d be so different, and yet so similar."

"In my head is a thousand year old ship," Breq blurted out. Later, she couldn’t say why she had said it, but it felt like the thing to do.

"Oh," Cheris said in reply. She was surprised, but at the same time, less than Breq would have expected from a confession of that weight. "In mine, there’s a thousand year old war monger. Sometimes, I even like him."

"We all have our burdens to carry," Breq said, as if she knew anything about it besides holding grudges. But somehow, she wanted Cheris to feel reassured. "Would you like to drink some tea?" she asked. Then, because she wanted to clarify it as something more intimate than the banquet that was currently happening, she added, "With me." She extended her open hand in offer.

Just as she had finished the gesture, she wanted to take her hand back again. What if this wasn’t a universal gesture? What if Cheris didn’t want to touch an alien? She had held herself apart from anyone so far. But even as she was afraid of something intangible—rejection, perhaps, Cheris grasped her hand.

"Tea would be lovely," she said.


End file.
